


Hear It Call Your Name

by loquaciousloser



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P America (Hetalia), 2P England (Hetalia), Angst?, Brothers, Got some OTGW Gravity Falls vibes going, Other, Probably more angst, fluff?, some 2p Hetalia characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:25:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loquaciousloser/pseuds/loquaciousloser
Summary: Here is something about Pickety Bay: it is part of the fog. And something true about the fog: it doesn’t like to give up what it’s swallowed.For the first time, he takes his brother’s hand and realizes they’re all alone for once. Matthew’s eyes are closed and Alfred’s are wide open. He isn’t breathing, but no one is.Welcome to Pickety Bay.We only have one rule in this quiet town.DO NOT LISTEN TO THE FOG.





	Hear It Call Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever multichapter fic! I hope y'all like it.

Here is something about Pickety Bay: it is part of the fog. And something true about the fog: it doesn’t like to give up what it’s swallowed.

For the first time, he takes his brother’s hand and realizes they’re all alone for once. Matthew’s eyes are closed and Alfred’s are wide open, as he mouths a few curse words and picks up his brother from the cement road, slumping him over his shoulder. 

He isn’t breathing, but neither is he.

A sign looms over the tall white pine trees lining his vision.

_W elco me to P ickety Ba y_

Population: ~~84~~ ~~81~~ 72 

** DO NOT LISTEN TO THE FOG.  **

 

* * *

 

The town stares when they walk in, seventy two /one now/ pairs of eyes trailing their every move. Alfred grimaces, but doesn’t say anything, his eyes trailing to the people on the porches and the sidewalks staring at him. Their eyes are dulled and grey, he feels the whole world is dull and grey here, but he glances at his brother on his back and walks up to a man on a porch. He has a canteen in his hand and straw hat with large holes, but Alfred doesn’t question it. He breathes in before looking up quickly.

“Excuse me- but do you know where the town hospital or doctor is? Please, my brother won’t wake up.” His throat tightens as he tries to sound polite. The man only chuckles.

“New here, aren’tchya? Well, just keep ‘em away from cloudy places, he’ll wake up if he’s ‘posed to.” The man pauses and glances over at Matthew; Alfred instincitevly clutches his brother’s shoulder, glaring. He feels his eyes are dull and grey too, but can’t think of anything over the man in front of him.

“But he doesn’t seem to be wantin’ to, does he? Careful, fog could swallow ya too.”

Alfred looks back to see the wisps of clouds in Matthew’s ears and screams.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t listen to Allen. He was just trying to mess with you.”

Alfred sits in a rickety, wooden chair, surrounded by medical supplies on rack after rack. He glances at the syringes and saws on the tables for a moment, but he decides to look at his brother strapped to the gurney instead. Matthew’s chest still isn’t rising, which unnerves him, but the woman standing over his brother calms him down a little. She smiles genuinely and wears a nurse’s uniform, her short hair bobbing as she moves around medical supplies.

“Of all the people you ask to find me, it had to be him.” She sighs and smiles weakly at Alfred; he notices how thick her Russian accent is.

“Please don’t worry though, Allen just likes to tease. Your brother is in a completely stable condition; I have no doubt he’ll wake up in a few days.”

Alfred sighs in relief, glancing thankfully at her; he clutches his chest gently and doesn’t have the energy to speak.

“Oh, I forgot, my name is Yekaterina Braginsky, but Katyusha is fine. I’m a nurse, one of the ones who helped heal our soldiers in the Battle.” She smiles fondly at this and sighs. Alfred cocks his head and wonders what she means by this. 

“You’re welcome to stay if you’d like, but I’ll keep a watch on your brother if you want to see the rest of Pickety Bay."

He sits silently for a few minutes for once, then mouths a promise to his brother “I won’t leave you. It’s you and me through it all.” The wooden floor creaks as he stands up, slowly making his way towards the door. Alfred tightens his shoulders, he’ll figure out a way to get home for Matthew, he thinks, he has to.

He can’t help but glance back walking out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

The town is bigger than he expected. 

To Alfred, it seems that there is one store or cottage after another, each almost on top of each other, though it gives him the vibe of his home town in New Hampshire. For such a small population, he thinks, there are almost as many shacks as trees. Most of them must be empty.

He wanders into a corner shop and marveled at the antique design of it all. He has never seen a place quite like this, even growing up in rural areas. The shop has almost an Italian feel, although he has never been to Italy, it’s the tone of it all and the merchandise. For a moment, he doesn’t realize he’s just staring at everything.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to buy something?”

Alfred jumps and quickly turns his attention to the counter, a scowling teenager slouches over the vintage register. He has curly sags of hair and a permanent scowl that almost draw the attention away from the scars and bruises lining his body.

“Yeah! Uh, sorry bout that…” He trails off reading the teen’s name tag. “…Lovino. But I was wondering if you could answer some questions about the town, yeah? Little lost, to say the least.”

The teen sighs and takes his head from out of his hand. “If you leave afterwards and make it quick.”

“Sure thing!” Alfred beams before running his fingers through his hair. “So, uh…where exactly is this place? Y’know, on the map.” 

Lovino shrugs. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care. Far from any other civilization fortunately. Germans won’t find us here.” His last sentence slows to a distasteful mumble and Alfred’s eyes widen. He stutters,

“Well, uh, do you know any way to contact people? Like a telephone? I think I left my cell at home or something…”

“Your cell-“ The teen rubs his temples and sighs. “You know what, nevermind… I haven’t seen one of those in a while. I think I’d forget how to turn one of those shit wheels.”

He chuckles at himself, but then looks back at Alfred, glaring. “Are you done or what?”

“Just one more thing!” The boy insists, his mind trailing off to the silent warning on the sign and the wisps in his brother’s ear. “About the fog everyone mentions. Why are clouds so-“

“Get out.” It’s a hushed whisper but anyone could hear it. “Get out of my shop.”

“But I just asked-“

“GET OUT OF MY SHOP.”

The air is crisp and silent, but Alfred doesn’t take a moments hint to stall. He jumps to his feet and races to the door, distancing himself from the obviously unstable teenager. For a moment, he thinks he can hear a whisper in his ear telling him to turn around.

He doesn’t look back.


End file.
